Maybe

Maybe last week was a fluke ---

Because this week we’re alright.

Maybe it has something to do with getting over our colds and glorious 85 degree weather.

Regardless, I couldn't possibly loves these two more. Chocolate cookie faces and all.

Friends. And enemy.

Meet some of Wyatt’s friends. Garrett (on the left), James (on the right), and Bennett (not pictured---he was trying to nap) are some of Wyatt’s bestest friends. These cute boys all live in our neighborhood and they are all less than 6 weeks apart. They are adorable and their moms are some of my dearest friends. Wyatt loves them all. They play with him, share with him, babble back and forth with him. He is so lucky to have such cute friends.

Because right now, Dax is not Wyatt’s friend.

Dax can be the best big brother. He tells me several times a day he loves Wyatt. He gives Wyatt kisses, hands him toys when Wyatt doesn’t have one to play with, and is always good about sharing snacks. He can be so sweet. Still, these random acts of kindness are few and far between. The rest of the day consist of some major fights between the boys, meltdowns, tantrums, hitting, bad tempers…you name it.

And lots and lots of tears; by all of us.

Dax can be so mean. Mean like taking a spatula and whopping Wyatt on the head. Mean like kicking Wyatt over when he walks by him. Mean like grabbing the toy out of Wyatt’s hand and chucking it across the room. It’s horrible. It’s uncalled for. And it makes me so sad.

Don’t get me wrong, Wyatt does his fair share of getting in Dax’s way. He messes up all the train tracks that Dax spent hours connecting to make the perfect route for his Thomas. He comes in like Godzilla and stomps all over Dax’s perfectly lined cars. He knocks down towers of checkers, blocks, Legos. Wyatt obviously doesn’t know any better, but in the eyes of a three year old, he's nothing more than a big pain.

As for me, I don’t know how to deal. I’ve tried to separate them. I’ve tried to let the two of them work it out and not interfere. I've tried time out. I’ve tried to have Dax do three nice things for Wyatt for every one mean thing he does. I’ve threaten to hit back, which I can never bring myself to do. I count to ten, I take deep breaths. I’ve screamed, I’ve yelled, I’ve cried.

And I still don’t know what to do.

Please help! Tell me this is just a phase. Tell me it gets better. Tell me they realize that they are so lucky to have each other and they are each other’s best friend. Tell me that Dax realizes that he should protect his little brother and stand up for him. Tell me Wyatt realizes his job isn’t to torment and agonize his older brother. Tell me one day this all stops. Tell me what to do.

Pine

I haven’t seen snow since the day we drove away from our house in Lehi. As Dax, who was the same age as Wyatt is now, and I followed Austin in the Uhaul and waved goodbye to our house, friends, family and all the snow still falling in late March, I never thought for a second I would miss it. No more sitting in the car for minutes waiting for it to heat up, no more crappy roads to drive on, no more layers and layers of clothes and no more shoveling driveways. Nope, I wouldn’t miss it one bit.

Until this weekend.

Some good friends of ours invited us up their cabin about 100 miles away in Pine. Who knew there was so much snow in Arizona in only a short hour and a half drive? The cabin was gorgeous, as always, the snow was beautiful, the company was great, and the memories were priceless. I think I would have had a lot more fun during those long winter months in Utah had Dax been older. And perhaps I may not be ready to move to a state with months staying below freezing, it definitely is worth a few road trips a couple of weekends out of the year. Thanks Greenwald’s for a wonderful Valentine’s weekend!

Attached

There are quite a few similarities I have noticed between Wyatt and when Dax was this age. Wyatt loves to be outside, just like Dax did. Thankfully in AZ we can let Wyatt roam the backyard during the “cold” months of January and February where as Dax would just cried at the sliding glass door staring at all the falling Utah snow. Wyatt has an extremely hearty appetite, just like Dax did. You can’t get food to Wyatt fast enough. And forget trying to eat yourself. You’re too busy replenishing the tray for him to get any food in your mouth. They make the same facial expressions, have the same mannerisms, jibber and jabber the same, get oh so frustrated when they can’t do something, are about the same size, sound the same when they cry or giggle, and still, even at well over a year, Wyatt has the same 6 teeth that Dax did.

All this really doesn’t really mean anything. Except that yesterday I realized something about Wyatt that I never ever did with Dax.

And it totally hit me.

Wyatt is attached.

No, not to me. To his Lion. And the funny thing is, it isn’t even Wyatt’s Lion, it’s Dax’s.

My mom gives each of her grand babies a little stuffed animal when they are born. Each grandchild has a different animal. I have no idea where she finds such cute animals, but she does. She is an avid believer that babies need “friends” with them in their crib. Dax got a Lion. Wyatt got a Tiger. Somehow Wyatt has adopted Dax’s Lion. And he is attached.

We had left Wyatt’s Tiger over at his grandma and grandpas when he was a baby, so to make sure he had a “friend” we put Dax’s Lion in Wyatt’s crib. It was weeks before we remembered to get the Tiger back, but it was too late. Wyatt and Lion had already bonded. Now that the Tiger is back, he gets no attention (my mom would be sad about that). When we put Wyatt in his crib, he lunges for his Lion. He turns him around and around until he finds his tail, tickles it under his nose, and lays down. Every night we go in to kiss Wyatt good night his little hand is still clutched around the Lion’s tail.

I knew Wyatt loved this Lion, but I had no idea he was attached. He woke up sad from his nap the other day and when I went in to get him, he was tightly holding onto the Lion’s tail. I unclenched the Lion from Wyatt’s death grip before I picked him up. The Lion has always stayed in his crib. I mean seriously, this Lion doesn’t even have a more clever name than “Lion”. Who would have thought Wyatt was so attached? Well, when I unclenched his little hand it about broke his heart. He completely melted down and cried the biggest tears I had ever seen. I quickly panicked and handed him his Lion. For the next half hour he walked around the house without moving one finger from the Lion’s tail.

Dax loved this Lion, but not as much as Wyatt. He is so well loved by Wyatt. We’ve washed him several times and his cute spiky hair is now one matted down mane. His pink nose is almost no longer, his soft plushy fur is weathered and worn and his eyes are scratched. I had no idea he was so attached. Come to think of it, I have noticed Wyatt trying to reach through the slats into his crib to retrieve the Lion, I just didn’t think anything of it.

Yes, he is attached. And right now I think it is so adorably cute the way he lugs his Lion around. So, today, it is cute.

I just dread the day it stops being cute.

Hooray!

Hooray for big blue eyes!

Hooray for adventure!

Hooray for determination! Hooray for blond blond hair! Hooray for cute smiles!
And it’s official….
Hooray for walking (and drool and dirty jeans)!

Dax

Are there certain things you knew about your children from very early on? Traits, characteristics, habits, that you noticed at an early age that have definitely come to pass? My mom has always told me that I am a very “piggy” eater. When I was younger, or so the story goes, I was apparently always the messier twin when I ate, and she knew it right off the bat. Truth be told, even still I am not extremely lady-like when sitting down for meals. I can’t help it, I like my food! But, maybe your daughter has never been afraid of dogs, so you know that she will always have a love for animals….and want to adopt them all. Or maybe your son picked up a crayon and stayed in-between the lines before he could walk in a straight line, so you just know he is going to be an artist.

I have had those thoughts about my own children. Before Dax was walking he was running, and with the in toeing of his little feet, I just know he is going to be the fastest forward, quickest running back, speediest sprinter ever. He can hit a baseball off a tee with a perfect swing. He just has the athleticism in him. And Wyatt, he has always loved his food like his momma. He puts fistfuls, fistfuls, of food in his mouth at a time. I have never worried about him going hungry. I know he will always have a healthy appetite, and maybe a passion for culinary. Both the boys love the water and it’s a good thing we live in AZ where we can spend our long summer days swimming. I love watching the boys learn and grow passionate about new things and then let my imagination take off and dream all these wonderful dreams for them.

But, there’s one thing I’ve noticed about Dax that frightens me. It’s come up these past few months, and even others who have heard him talk this way have expressed their concern.

You see, when we go anywhere in the car he thinks we’re a racecar. Not just any racecar. A famous racecar. He tells me, “Go faster momma! You gotta catch that black one!”, and frantically points out his window at the black car that has pulled slightly ahead of us. I try to explain to him the “law”, but that makes no sense to a three-year old. He incessantly explains the traffic rules to me. “Go mom! Green means go! Go faster”. He doesn’t care that there are 3 cars in front of us forcing me to go 35mph. And heaven forbid I stop at a green light in the left hand turn lane to yield to oncoming traffic. He about looses it.

I think in his head he believes we’re Lightening McQueen, the “famous racecar”, and every time we get on the road, it’s actually a racetrack. I tell him we need to watch for little boys and girls playing in the street and be careful of all the other cars. Then he says, “We will crash and flip over on our heads and that will be cool.” and I can see him picturing the part in the movie where Mr. the King crashes (but is okay) and Lightening helps him to the finish line. I tell him, “Crashing and flipping on our heads would be scary, and that would not be good, not cool.” And he says, “Oh” like I have no idea what I am talking about and he has a much better idea of what is cool than his lame mom.

So, this is a warning. It’s one of these early traits that I see in my child and I am counseling all of you. If you plan on being on the road 13 years from now…watch out.

Dax is going to be a "famous racecar".